


It only get worse (Mace)

by hrewannabe



Series: Vampire: The Marmalade [12]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Brujah, Camarilla, Clan Politics, Flashback, Gen, Mentions of War, Multi, Politics, Sabbat - Freeform, back at it again with fighting the sabbat, old vampires, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 02:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16076591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrewannabe/pseuds/hrewannabe
Summary: Mace summons the Brujah Primogen to his MMA Studio and tries to explain his actions earlier in the human club Sepia.





	It only get worse (Mace)

He’s watching Weiss grip the steering wheel of the small silver car they’re in. Her short blonde hair and long earrings are gently ruffled by the wind coming in through the open window. He sighs and she glances at him. “I can go Toris if you’re tired of dealing with high ranking Cainites and their pretentious attitudes. He grates on my fucking nerves” she spits out, her accent, still strong despite the years, warp the words. He smiles and gently shakes his head and glances out the window. 

 

“No, I'll go.” Turns to watch her when they stop at a red light. Watches the color in the dark lighting shade her red, an angry goddess of fire and brimstone. Wishes but knows it won’t happen. “I’m not afraid of New World whelps.” She laughs and he can see the glint of fangs, knows that she isn’t either. They predate this new society, only follow along so as to stay off anyone’s lists. They don’t talk for the rest of the short ride. Weiss hums an old marching tune, but nothing else breaks the silence. 

 

They arrive at the studio and Toris gives Weiss a put upon look before walking in. It’s late and it’s essentially empty, an old man in a polo with the studio’s logo is cleaning up what looks like a trainer station. _ A ghoul.  _  He’s methodically rolling up wraps and bandages, a young man( _ a human) _ walks by the ghoul and they chat for a brief second. Then the ghoul turns and calls out to Toris. They talk briefly, the man gives a leering look at Weiss who clenches her hands into fists, muscles bulging and the the ghoul is directing him to Mace. 

 

The ghoul shuts the door behind him. The room is a dark wood paneling, windows in the back with blinds open, it makes Toris think of old Noir films. The large man swivels around and snaps the blinds closed. Mace waves a hand towards the seat across from the desk. Toris looks at it, a worn metal chair with a leather seat. He tries not to notice the scratch and skid marks on the bottom of the chair and sits down gingerly. Mace looks at him, not a glare but a serious look still on his face. Eyebrows drawn, tiny eyes narrowed. He opens his large mouth, thin lips stretching wide.

 

“Do you know why I acted the way I did towards you when I first met you?” he asks.

 

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out Mace” Toris tell him, meets his eyes, doesn’t let his gaze waver or his eyes flicker away. Perfectly still, a wolf waiting to pounce, a soldier in the trenches. “But it’s always good to hear it from the horse’s mouth. You know what they say… never assume” he winks. 

 

Mace lurches back into his chair, knuckles white on his desk. He glares at Toris and Toris offers him a slight smile. “I did it to test your behavior and to figure out how you take to outside threats when someone from our clan comes in with special talents.” Mace says this all with a straight face and the older Brujah has to refrain from scoffing. 

 

“Why should it matter?” Toris asks him,  _ and really does it?  _ “I would not be where I am within this state without being able to ‘keep it  _ cool’ _ as the kids say. I do not stand on the shoulders of my foresires Mace, I earned my position.” Toris watches him, wants the larger Brujah to shrink back in rightfully placed fear, but they do not. Instead they still, their hands gripping the wood table tight on the edge. Toris  _ earned  _ this spot, he wrangled and finessed his way to the top, clawed forth from the bottom, from a mindless mass embrace that stole his military career from him and a righteous death. He is not some petty whelp standing in his sire’s or grandsire’s shadow. “And despite your standing overall within the Camarilla and the sway you hold, your  _ test  _ is unappreciated and unwarranted.  I do not think your grandsire would approve of their grandchilder using some paltry test. You are alone Mace, what does that say of yyour own standing?” Toris sits ramrod straight still, he will not relax here, despite all of his words he is not a heavy hitter, he’s no rough and tumble like he has heard of Mace. Toris would much rather plan and research and then make his move. That said for all of Mace’s mistakes so far, the younger cainite was still dangerous, still a threat, even alone. Especially because he was alone. 

 

Mace’s expression is blank. His words sharp and concise. “Actually” the blocky man says drawing his hands away from the edge of the table where the wood had started to groan “I have been here in this line of work for a long time.” Toris wants to laugh,  _ a long time he says _ , _ bah he’s still young.  _ “When I mean outside threat I meant Sabbat, not me.” Toris grins. Knows that the younger vampire is worried about his standing among those in the area, recognizes this as the other man trying to save face and excuse their actions. He doesn’t care. “If I did turn violent in your bar that night I would have cleaned up the mess and healed the other Brujah’s wounds out of respect. I didn’t get here by birth right. If you knew how my sire died you would not have made the statement of ‘the sway I held.’” Mace tells him and Toris, has shaken him, ruffled his feathers, mussed his hairs. “I have gone to domains were the Brujah primogen was nothing but a puppet with another clan pulling the strings, I have been in the opposite when a mess was made and I had to clean up.” Mace rolls his chair back,cross his arms and shifts almost as if to stand but then rolls back, uncross his arms. “As to your statement pertaining to Juggernaut, you have no idea what kind of iron fist he wields. He would have killed you, the Prince and put Becca in a hole for 200 years for the nerve of a Toreador adopting a Brujah, which brings me to this” Mace pauses. He leans over, and pulls open what Toris assumes is a drawer in his desk and the man has to stop himself from stiffening up and instead forces himself to relax.When the younger Brujah comes back up he’s holding a letter. He reads it out, the orders from his Archon and Justicar. Toris grimances at the way in which Mace is going about his orders, wonders if the other man had perhaps thoughtt about going in a more genile manner. Toris has not yet met Archon Nala Diata, but he had met William Peace, the man had not seemed fond of frivolous statements.When he’s done reading Mace lets it fall to the table and stares at Toris, gaze unrelenting and Toris stares back just as hard. “You might not like the way I work, but it’s effective. If I fail here Archon Diata and probably Justicar Peace will be brought in and then you will probably meet my grandsire at that point since he is literally the last resort. I am your cruise missile and he’s the nuke. If they come in you won’t have a city to claim as Brujah Primogen.” Mace leans back in his chair, face smug. Lips twisted in a self satisfied smirk, eyes narrowed like a continent cat who's finally gotten the mouse or the last drop of cream. Toris gently picks up the letter and scans it, and he wants to ask Mace so badly how old he thinks he is, but he refrains, knows that would be his anger and pettiness rising to the surface instead he questions him.

 

“Think on this Mace. I did not need a warning from you, I know the weight of one’s duty.” Toris tells him, his eyes glaze over briefly at the thought, thinks,  _ rain and cold, men yelling and horses screaming, Weiss is across the battlefield a smirk on her face she raises a bloodyy sword high into the air a challeng- _ “I mean no ill will of your sire, nor their death. When I mentioned the sway you held I spoke of your connections and deeds, did you not follow in your sire’s footsteps? Your lineage is not one that can be hid in the shadows, one does not hunt Sabbat and not make waves or allies.” though Toris can’t help but think that Archon Diata sent the Brujah here to die, away from any possible allies they might have. If they had any. “Battle prowess is not the only power, sometimes it is not the size or power of an army or person that will bring down the opposition but that of a carefully pulled string  I've been in this world long enough to understand what a Justicar and Archon's orders are and what they mean.”

Toris looks away from Mace and glances at the window, for a brief moment he wishes Weiss was here, thinks that Mace would perhaps listen to a Brujah who looked like a fighter, instead of someone with his lean build, but he continues on. He’s tired and wants to go to his other more important meetings, Mace is wasting his time. “Mace I am a busy man, Staunton is not the only place where I have business. Go clear out the sabbot and report back to Archon Nala Daita, may her eternity be long, and go keep watch over this state for inconsistencies from the shadows that lurk in the day. I understand that I am to be of interest as the imposter prince prior to Prince Arista slid in under my nose and that of the other primogens here, I do not mind you heeling at my step waiting for a misstep but should you truly be sharing a document that I believe your Archon sent as classified? Are you coming to me asking for information on those listed? If so do not lengthen our meeting in such a way, I'm not the 'pup' you think I am, I would not like to waste your time. Go ahead  _ what _ do you wish to know"

 

Mace’s eyes light up when Toris says imposter and he wants to sigh.  _ New World vampires always so eager. _ “First off, I never knew you were considered an ‘imposter’” Mace speaks and Toris has to fight not to snarl right then and there, he is no imposter, the nerve of this little whelp. Still Mace continues on, unaware of the sparks igniting. “I just thought you were trying to seize power. Second I am coming to you and giving you this information in case I do fail, so whatever information I find that can be of use can be given to the city and the Archon along with the Justicar. At that point how can they call you an imposter. I called you ‘pup’ to get a rise out of you. Again, I did it to test you so I apologize if you were offended since you laughed it off anyways.”

 

Toris snorts, knows that he’s giving away his opinion here but he can’t help it. “I think you heard me wrong. I’m no imposter, the prince prior to our current Prince was an imposter. Besides if I wanted power I would not seize it here, what do you know about Staunton Mace?” Toris asks and watches the mans blocky face twist and turn in barely contained anger. He waves his hand. “It does not matter, anyhow I am not offended, it is as it shall be. I thank you for extending this information, now if you don’t mind I have a meeting with the Brujah Primogens of Harrisonburg and Roanoke. I must take my leave” Toris tells him standing up. The metal of the chair skitters when he does, dragging noise along the floor. 

 

Mace’s face twists into ill contained glee as he murmurs “you just stated where to gain power.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re trying to convey Mace, perhaps my English is getting rusty? Would you like to expand more on this?” And maybe he is getting rusty in his English speaking, he’s not a born speaker after all and all the little complexities of English is so hard especially as every time he thinks he has a handle on it something changes or new slang comes out. 

 

“If you get support from other cities you can gain more power. It’s hard to run a domain when you are limited to where you can go outside of it.” Mace says smugly like he deserves some kind of reward. Long thin lips tilting up, not once has he dropped fangs, so he either has wonderful control or does not see Toris as a threat, and that’s fine. 

  
"Yes, but I have no need to gain more power, I am content for now."

 

Mace laughs, it's a loud ugly thing and it makes Toris want to leave even faster. “Now that’s funny” the man tells him.

 

"Really, I'm glad I've amused someone today, Weiss says my joke have been falling flat lately"

 

“Kindred are always looking to gain more power. Whether in the mortal society or that of the undead.” The blocky man continues as of Toris had never made his comment and Toris wonder if perhaps he should just sit back down, but no Toris needs to make it to the other meeting on time.

 

He walks to the door, thinks he might just know how to get the younger vampire of his back and so he leers at Mace, and feels disgusting doing so. He does it anyways. “One does not have to play fast ball Mace, now unless you’re offering me dinner and a belly-bump I do believe I need to leave.” The blocky man stiffens, mouth almost agape and Toris leaves nose in the air.

 

When he gets outside Weiss is waiting at the car. She’s leaning against it looking not a day over 26 and she frowns when she sees his expression. He climbs into the car and she starts it up. “We can always rescheduled Harrisonburg and Roanoke.”

 

“No, Weiss. It’ll be fine.”


End file.
